


When Dean says Castiel

by Year_ofthe_Rabbit



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Angst and Feels, M/M, Masturbation in Shower, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Rough Sex, Secret Crush, Sex, Sexual Fantasy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-20
Updated: 2014-10-31
Packaged: 2018-02-18 02:06:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2331215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Year_ofthe_Rabbit/pseuds/Year_ofthe_Rabbit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You'd think today was going well for Dean. A hot chick was riding him, offering him the Shag of his life. But who are we kidding, today wasn't going that great. Thank god Sam finally got around to chopping the succubus's head off. Not in time to stop her from giving Dean the whammy, leaving Dean cursed with lust, jacking off in the shower, and going through his list of sexual fantasies as he struggles to find the one that will finally get him off. It had to be his best friend, with those gorgeous, blue eyes. And Cas just had to show up just in time for the big finish.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dean

You'd think today was going well for Dean. Strong thighs straddled Dean's hips, grinding down against him. Giant tits were barely constrained in a black bodice hung in front of his face. More than anything he wanted to reach out and squeeze them, bury his face in her chest and moan. She ground down on him again, wet and rubbing against a fully hard dick. Dean's eyes rolled back and he gripped the blankets, restraining himself. She gripped his chest, bracing herself to grind harder. Her nails dug into his shirt, forcing his attention back to her. Bright, blue eyes met Dean's and he lost himself in them. She leaned down, her lips descending. Dean forgot everything and reached for her.

But today wasn't going that great. Thank god Sam finally got around to chopping the succubus's head off.

Dean was left lying under a corpse, dazed as blood spurted over him and his cock throbbed despite it all. One glance at Sam was enough for him to avert his eyes. Clearly, the lust mojo did not wear off after death. Fan-fucking-tastic.

They didn't talk when they salt and burned the body. They didn't talk when they loaded into the car. Dean stripped off his blood coated jacketed, but held back from removing his shirt. It was disgusting, he was covered in monster blood and guts. More than that, though, he was still hard. Still thinking about the tits he poured lighter fluid on, despite the putrid smell that rolled off the corpse as it burned. If he took his shirt off, he might keep going, might take hold of himself right here in the car. Might not care that his brother was next to him, struggling with his own dose of horny monster curse.

Dean tried to think of anything else, but lust magic was running through his veins. The succubus had been gorgeous. Tan, glowing skin and plush, cock-sucking lips. She rode him like a manic and Dean could admit to himself how much he liked it when a lady took charge.

And those eyes. Dean didn't dwell on how hot those bright blue eyes were.

They still weren't talking when they got to the hotel. Sam, the one not covered in monster, dealt with check in. He picked up a second room without discussion. Dean's relief was momentous.

Dean had to climb a flights of stairs because the motel was too shitty to have an elevator. The discomfort was evil itself. He wished the succubus were alive so he could kill her again. His focus wavered as he struggled with the key card. Two failed attempts to open a fucking door and he had to hang back from banging against it till it broke down. God, if he lost it now there'd be no guarantee he could pull himself back. He was not gonna go crazy and be kicked out of the hotel before he even made it into the room and dealt with things.

One deep breath, one careful swipe of the card, and the light on the door blinked green. The shirt was the first thing to go when he was in the room. He kicked off his shoes before going for the jeans - once he started down that road that would be it.

He rested his hand on his bulge, rubbing against the tip of his penis, so engorged it poked out the top of his pants. He needed release, desperately, but he didn't want to lose himself so far that he jacked himself off with his pants around his knees, his body still drenched in blood. He needed to get clean, he needed to control himself until he was clean. One, two, three shaky breaths and he was ready. He unsnapped the button of his jeans, unzipped them, and pushed the jeans and his boxers all the way down. He stepped out of them, and bee-lined for the bathroom. He needed a shower, he could cum while getting clean.

The water was cold, frigid. Dean cursed but didn't wait. The cold wasn't bringing him down early, so he simply gripped himself and started pumping.

His mind raced as the water warmed. It only took a moment for things, if you ignored the grime running off him in the water, started feeling better. His mind raced for the right fantasy for this moment. The first thought was of the succubus, as she grinded against him, her boobs bouncing, her back arching, how good she'd have felt if he plunged his dick into her.

That was not the right way to go. Dean was not gonna jack off to a snuff fantasy, and there wasn't gonna be any sexy thoughts where his brother comes in to rescue him.

His mind shifted. Other women.

Last week he'd bent a young girl over a bed and rammed her while she yipped and yowled and begged him to fuck harder. Dean thrust faster into his fist as he remembered how pert her ass had been, how good it sounded when he smacked it.

It wasn't what he wanted, though. His thoughts shifted again. Last month in Texas, right after taking out some honest-to-god gremlins, he'd let a southern bell get down on her knees and lavish his cock. Her lipstick stains were a struggle to clean off, but there were so many tall, big-titted ladies in the Lone Star state he wasn't gonna let one killer blow job get in the way of introducing them to his dick. Dean remembered the twins, so thankful he saved them and their homestead they took turns riding his cock while pleasuring each other.

Oh yeah, that had been a good night.

It wasn't what he needed now, though. His cock was aching for release, bulging into his fist, and he was thrusting with everything he had. Something was holding him back, though. Some part of this bloody fucking magic that the succubus bitch had pelted him with before they'd ended her. It would wear off, when they studied her, all the readings said the lust would wear off. But right now it was owning him, and he couldn't figure out how to break through. His mind jumped between thoughts, his body desperate for release.

Images jumped to his mind. The twins in Texas fingering each other to get him in the mood. The succubus, draped in red satin, lounging on her bed when they first walked into her layer. The boy, back in Oregon, wearing fish net as he danced on Dean's lap.

Bright, shining blue eyes. Oh god, those eyes.

Dean pumped faster, unable to turn back from where his mind had wandered to.

It was rare he let himself go there. Rare that he dropped his guard enough to think about... to imagine... but it was too late and with a groan he gave in to temptation.

The eyes, they no longer belonged to the succubus. They were sharper, deeper, older. The face built itself in his memory. Dean pictured himself reaching out to grip the dark, close-cropped hair, pulling his friend, his best friend, closer. He'd kissed men with stubble before, remembered the rough scratch on his lips, on his chin. God, only in his darkest fantasies did he let himself wonder how good it would feel to touch Cas that way. He'd run his hand up his chest, push his coat off his shoulders, getting that far would be like getting him naked. But he'd do more, he wanted to taste Cas's flesh.

Dean shuddered. He didn't know what he wanted more. Cas in front of him, grinding against him until he grabbed their cocks together in his fist and beat both of them off. Or... god... Cas against the wall, the water beating down his back as Dean lined his dick up with Cas's opening. He'd be so tight, so warm, Dean would be so good to him. He'd give him anything. Anything. His thoughts shifted once more, to Cas behind him, gripping his hips, bruising him as he lost himself in passion. He was so strong, he could do anything he wanted and Dean would only beg for more.

Dean choked on a gasp, imagining that, just that. He leaned his arm against the shower wall, resting his head there as he focused on the warmth coiling inside of him. This is what he wanted, this is what he needed. So close, so close to release.

"Cas," he gasped. "Castiel."

"Dean," his first thought was that the deep voice was imagined, but then he felt a brush of fabric against him. Dean tilted his head, saw Cas standing there. He gasped again, gasped as he thrust one last time, felt himself tumble forward into bliss.

Cas's brilliant eyes watched him as he exploded. Cum shot out against the shower wall, and Dean suddenly wished the water could wash his shame away as easily as his release.

Cas was there. Right there. It should have been a fantasy, but Cas wasn't looking at him with dark desire that promised all the dirty things Dean wanted. Cas looked... confused. He was standing fully clothed in the shower, examining Dean with his trademark stoic intensity. "Dean, what's wrong?" Cas asked.

It was too much. Having Cas there was humiliating, and it was worse because even faced with a naked, masturbating man Cas didn't seem to realize what it meant. These fantasies, well, they weren't new. And Dean would never act on them. Never. But he always thought that maybe just a little bit, if he did, Cas would respond. Just a little bit. But there was nothing.

Dean struggled for something to say. He found himself rambling. "Cas, what are you doing here? You're... in my shower, fully dressed in my shower. Dudes don't do that, man. They don't fucking pop in, fully dressed, to other dude's showers!" He was yelling, but he couldn't stop.

Cas frowned, his brows furrowing in that way that made Dean's stomach flip because it was so fucking cute. Cas's eyes scanned Dean's body, not rushing over or slowing down for any part. Dean could feel his erection growing full again, the sex voo-doo not done with him yet. What did it mean that Cas didn't take a second to notice the effect his gaze had?

Cas's eyes returned to Dean's face, and in a blink Cas's clothes were gone. Dean gaped at flesh, hard toned muscle on a lean body. He tried not to stare, Cas's hadn't stared at him. But Dean couldn't help peaking. Cas wasn't aroused, but it was clear that when he got there it would not disappoint. Dean turned his body away, leaning harder against the wall for support. Cas was in the shower with him. Naked.

"Is this better?" Cas asked.

Dean choked on laughter. Yes. So much better. Cas couldn't be doing this without realizing, without knowing what it meant to Dean. Not even angels were that Dumb. And if he did notice? If he knew this was what Dean hadn't been letting himself dream about, hadn't let himself hope for, because it could never ever happen ever. God, if Cas was, in his own way, propositioning him in this fucking shower while the succubus's spell kept him hard and ready? Dean had to go for it.

Dean didn't let himself second guess. He turned back to Cas, turned fully so that Cas could view him in all his glory. He knew he was impressive. The ladies, and the very, very few men, were not short with their praise of his body. He spent long days and longer nights fighting evil and the effort was enough to make up for a life time of eating junk and drinking plenty. There was no flab on him, just sculpted abs and a package to write home about.

Cas didn't look at any of it. He tilted his head, another adorable quirk. Dean saw him open his mouth, about to ask what could only be another oblivious, infuriating question. Dean didn't give him that chance. It was only half a step to move forward. Half a step before he was clutching Cas, desperately. He covered Cas's mouth with his own, licking into it, devouring him. The stubble scratched, and he rubbed into it. One hand wrapped around the back of Cas's neck, the other around his hip. He moaned when his cock brushed up against Cas. He groaned harder when he rubbed against him. It was nothing, just a touch, but it was Cas. His Cas. He was touching Cas and it was everything.

Cas shifted against him, and Dean's heartbeat sped up. There was nothing but anticipation and desire in him. Cas's hands cupped Dean's shoulders. Then Cas's hands pushed Dean away.

Dean couldn't hold back a whimper when he found himself pushed back, alone, under the water on his own. He thought that Cas had left him and he panicked. Cas left him. But no, he was just out of reach. He had pushed Dean away, but hadn't left. Dean blinked water out of his eyes, trying to clear his head to see what had happened. Cas stood naked, dripping water, with scratches that could only have come from Dean on his chest and hips.

He was completely unaroused.

He was frowning at Dean.

Dean bolted.

Dean ignored his raging hard on as he jumped out of the shower. He ran out of the bathroom. His eyes darted in the room. He hadn't brought anything with him from the car, so he grabbed the blood-soiled jeans off the floor. Dean yanked them on, grunting as it grazed across his sensitive dick. He hadn't bothered with boxers, and despite obvious problems with that he kept going. Zipped and buttoned the jeans, ran for the door.

Cas apparated between Dean and his escape. Cas was fully clothes again, but his hair and clothes were drenched. A reminder of the shower, and all that had happened in it.

"Dean, you are not well," Cas said.

It was like Cas had punched him. Dean physically recoiled, stumbling backwards and away from Cas. This could not be happening. Why on god's green earth had Dean thought it would be alright to touch, to kiss, an angel. Cas was his best friend, they had been through hell together (literally). But that didn't make him human. Far from human. Far from being a person who would think of Dean the way Dean desperately wanted to be thought of.

"Dean, you are not well," Cas repeated. He walked forwards towards Dean. Dean tried to back away, but he stumbled into furniture and tripped. Cas caught him as he hit a wall, not letting him bounce to the floor. Dean cringed from the proximity. Cas was holding him, pulling Dean close to Cas's chest. Dean wanted to lean in to Cas's body, but the memory of Cas shoving him away in response to his advances was too much.

"I'm fine, Cas, leave me alone," Dean spat.

Cas shushed him, pulling him closer. Dean shuddered. His arousal hadn't left. Being this close to Cas, his Cas, and not reaching out to touch him, was complete torture. He smelled so good. Dean just wanted to lean in and smell his skin.

Cas raised a hand and rested it on Dean's forehead. "Relax, Dean. I can fix it."

Bright, searing heat tore through Dean. He's body felt on fire, so intense he could almost see the white, glaring light. Cas had filled Dean with a small piece of his grace, and it was burning through him. Dean leaned into Cas's touch, so hot it almost hurt. He clung to the heat, and welcomed the power Cas gifted him. He basked in it, not taking a moment for granted. It was wrong, so wrong, but he arched against Cas, clinging to him as he rode the wave. He did not expect the organism when it hit.

Afterwards, Cas gently leaned him against the wall. His hand brushed down Dean's face, holding him for a moment before letting him stand on his own.

"I purged you of the succubus's magic, Dean," Cas said. Dean felt exhausted, but fortunately not in the least bit aroused. Cas stared at Dean, as if he was waiting for a response from him. When none came, Cas's frown deepened. Cas said, "There is no shame in acting in response to a spell."

Dean cringed, then shuffled aside. That was it. Cas had thought it was a spell. He thought Dean had touched him because of the magic of the succubus, not because Dean wanted him. Not because Dean desperately, pathetically, shamefully yearned for him.

"Get out, Cas," Dean growled. Cas didn't. Cas stared at him, his eyebrows wrinkled and his face sad. "I said get the fuck out," Dean yelled.

He was yelling at an empty room. Dean collapsed to the floor. Cas had left him here, empty and alone.


	2. Roger

Misery loves company, and the only thing making Dean feel any better right now was that Sam looked like Shit. Like, shittier than Dean did. The waitress had scowled at both of them when they ordered. They looked like miscreants, Sam in yesterday's rumpled (and frankly, cum-stained) clothes. Dean only had three outfits, and the best two were out of commission after their recent hunts. That left jeans that were more holes than fabric and a grungy Led Zeppelin shirt.

Sam just got coffee. Dean ordered a giant steak and eggs, covered in hollandaise. Sam cringed when Dean chomped down on a piece intentionally cut too big to fit in Dean's mouth. Dean ate like a pig to further antagonize his brother. Misery loves company and right now Dean didn't want to be alone.

They left town. They never talked about what happened after that succubus hunt.

Dean hardly talked at all for weeks.

It was a vampire den that brought on the inevitable.

"Dean, we need to call for back up," Sam said.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Fuck that, nobody's got time to drive out here and help us decapitate a couple blood suckers. We've got this."

"Yeah, right. You saw as well as I did how many were out stalking last night," Sam said, pointing to the map of the shady part of town where they'd been scouting last night. It was mostly old warehousing, some turned to night clubs that didn't cater to a high end crowd. There had been a lot of vampires frequenting those clubs, picking off those who wouldn't be missed. Sam continued, "And that wasn't their full numbers. There's got to be at least two dozen. I'm better than you at huntin' them and I can't take a dozen,"

Dean wasn't having it. "You're not better than me at anything, and I said we can handle it."

"Why risk it?" Sam insisted. "I mean, one quick shout out to Cas and -"

"We are NOT calling in Cas," Dean snapped. Dean knew he had given something away when he saw Sam's raised eyebrows and incredulous stare. He needed a distraction, a way out. So he stomped to the table and grabbed the maps from Sam's hand. He grabbed a sharpie and started scribbling on the map. As he scribbled he kept talking. "Cas is fighting a fucking angel war. You want to distract him cause what, you can't handle a vampire coven? Think things through, Sammy. We watched these blood suckers for two hours. They travel in pairs, they hunt individual clubbers, and take them to secluded spots. Here, here, and here. Can't handle a dozen? Well let's cut down their numbers before we take on the nest." Dean shoved the map back at Sam so he could examine it.

Sam's eyes stayed on Dean half a second longer than they would have if he bought it, but he didn't pry. Instead he took the map, peering at it as if looking long enough would give way to the faults in Dean's plan. Of course it didn't. Dean was a demon killing genius and he'd come up with an awesome plan. He didn't need Cas to take out a few vampires.

Begrudgingly, Sam admitted, "It's the right start. If we could take out a couple batches of vamps, then find their nest during daylight, we'd stand a chance."

"Damn straight we will," Dean gloated.

Sam glared at him and pointed sternly. "We try this tonight, but if it doesn't work we give my plan a shot. Your hot shot attitude won't mean shit if you're dead."

Dean grinned through his anxiety. He slapped his brother shoulder as he swaggered by on his way to the weapons. "Buck up, Sammy. We've got this."

That night Dean kept his eyes on the prize. Sam was in the car, keeping his distance and biding his time. Dean had chosen the night club. It was a place they'd seen vampires frequent the night before. Dean knew exactly what type of place it was, and he came prepared.

He'd stolen a black T-shirt and fresh new jeans that afternoon, smooth talking his way past the teenage shop clerk who should have been watching closer. A cheeky grin and well timed wink had been all the distraction he needed to procure his stakeout outfit. The jeans were that new style, tight. The black T-shirt was fitted. Combat boots and his leather jacket added an edge. He had a pack of cigarettes in his pocket, and took his time consuming one after another a few feet from the front door. He watched men come and go all evening. They watched him back.

Dean would take a drag of his cigarette when a guy was hot. He'd wrap his lips around it and suck like it mattered, not breaking eye contact with the man on his way to entering the club. Every one of them did a double take, taking an extra moment to check out Dean's body leaning so casually against the grungy brick wall. Dean didn't need a bigger ego, but he liked that he hadn't lost his touch. The first time a man immediately re-directed his trajectory and bee-lined for Dean to ask him inside for a drink, Dean couldn't hold back a snarky grin. Fuck everyone who ever told him no, he could sleep with anyone he wanted tonight.

But the man had been human, and he was out to catch vampires. Dean had brushed him off with a grin and a wink and a promise to find him later for a dance. The third time this happened the bouncer started giving him pointed looks. Dean puffed his cigarette and blew him a kiss. Evidently, Dean wasn't the bouncer's type, so Dean just paid him off. He stayed outside the club for an hour before he got a hit.

Three men were leaving the club together. Two were handsome, but non-descript. Both were in jeans and sneakers, one wearing a tank and close-cropped denim jacket, the other had a tight black button up covering a body builder's chest. Between them was a guy barely more than a boy. He had to be legal, because that bouncer didn't fuck around, but Dean would hesitate to call the scrawny guy more than a kid. His hair was shaggy and he wore a neon pink shirt and tight booty shorts. The shirt clung to him, sweat soaked. Dean was betting the kid liked to dance and had been at it all night. The men boxing him in were clean as cucumbers. They smiled blandly as the kid spoke, all animation. Their laughter was polite when the kid hit his punch line, right as they turned a corner. Dean pushed off the wall and followed.

It was everything Dean expected. Turn right. Turn left. The building up ahead with the pull up garage door, that was where they'd sneak off to. Sam and him had checked it out during daylight hours. Nothing was there but some old mattresses in the middle of an old front office to a now defunct business. The homeless population wasn't living there. Homeless folk caught on fast to the dangers of the world. Barely legal boys who knew how to strut in booty shorts? Yeah, those got eaten for dinner.

Dean let the trio enter the building unperturbed. The vampires would want to play with their food, and Sam would have been watching for Dean's movement. Dean knew they didn't need backup, but that didn't mean he was going to foolishly try two vampires on his own when they had a well-articulated plan. And it was his plan, so he even felt the need to stick to it.

Dean glanced over his shoulder, seeking out Sam's form in the darkness. He bounced on the soles of his feet, impatient. There was a noise inside the building, catching Dean's attention. Something thudded on the ground, and someone muffled a shout.

Fuck the plan, if Sam was too slow to pull it off it wasn't Dean's fault. Dean grabbed the garage door and yanked it upwards. It rattled as it flew up. Dean was as shocked by what he saw as the jean jacket guy was by suddenly having a witness. Jean jacket guy hissed, revealing rows of pointed teeth. It was precisely the distraction the kid needed to swing a saber that was much too long to fit in any of his clothing. The saber flew. The vampire's head was severed. Its body now dropped to the ground, landing with the same thud that had raised Dean's concern before. He shouldn't have worried, the first thud had been the other vampire's decapitated body crashing to the ground.

Just then, Sam caught up. He was panting as he surveyed the scene. "What the hell just happened?"

Dean smacked his forehead, not flipping off his brother in front of the monster-slaying baby.

The kid broke out in a grin. His eyes flickered from one brother to the next, his hands still expertly gripping the sword. "You have got to be kidding me," he said, almost a squeal. He dropped the sword and honest to god bounced up and down. "You've GOT to be kidding me!" he repeated.

"Hey, kid, are you okay?" Sam asked. Maybe he hadn't seen ninja-junior decapitate a monster just then. That was the only reason Dean could think Sam was walking forward to check on the guy.

Dean needn't have worried. The kid only let out the squeal he'd been saving and rushed forward to grab Sam into a hug. "I can't believe the freakin' Winchester brothers came all the way out here to try to save me!"

The panic on Sam's face broke through Dean's tension. Dean started cracking up, his belly laughter rolling out of him as Sam tried to dislodge himself from the grip of what was increasingly clear was an infatuated fan boy. Dean couldn't care how this kid knew who they were, as long as he kept clinging too Sam, who was too polite to forcefully remove the kid.

"Shuddup Dean, this is not funny," Sam hissed. "There are still vampires out here!"

Dean wiped his eyes, waiving off Sam's concern. The kid peeked around Sam to grin at Dean, winking mischievously. Dean's smile dropped just a little, his stomach doing a mini flip. The kids eyes blazed with suggestion that showed experience. For the first time Dean believed that his ID didn't have to be fake to get him into the club.

The kid released Sam, flipping his hair out of his face and grinning at the both of them. He rested his hands on slender hips as he appraised the brothers. "Seriously, you guys are my heroes. I have read every one of your books. They're totally why I got into hunting, you know, after things happened."

Dean ignored the 'after things happened' part. Things always happened before people started hunting, and the back story hardly mattered anymore. A different part mattered. "What books?" Dean growled.

The kid batted his eyes. "Chuck Shurley's series. Don't tell me you haven't heard of them."

Dean and Sam exchanged looks. They weren't friendly looks. "You told me you burned them all," Dean growled.

Sam threw up his hands. "Chuck told me they only did one run of printing."

Dean started cursing. Chuck probably ran off another edition to pay the bills.

"Ah, c'mon boys. Don't be like that. Those books are glorious," the kids said. He sent Dean another smoldering look when Sam was looking the other way. Dean's stomach flipped again. Sam hadn't read all the books. Dean had. Dean knew what had this guy coming on so strongly to him.

Sam was the one to bring them back to the moment. "Whatever. Those don't matter right now. Who are you and how did you take out those vampires?"

The kid pouted at Sam's abruptness, but only for a moment. "I'm Roger, I live around here, and I hunt vampires for breakfast." Neither brother bought his tough act so he went back to pouting. "Fine, fine. I live her with my gal pals, Tina and Jenny. We've killed a few beasties here and there, and have been practicing for ages. The vampires are new to town. The place has been crawling with them for about a month. They like cute boys like me, and have been sneaking off with the cutest guys. Jenny said I should trick one of them into trying to take me away, and wa-la! It worked like a charm. We watched them for a week, learned their routes, and got into place. Really, the girls should be here any moment..."

On cue headlines appeared in the distance. They were attached to a rusted Volkswagen bug with two young women inside. The car hadn't even stopped moving before the passenger was out, brandishing an axe she looked fully capable of cleaving someone's head off with.

Roger rushed forward to stop her. "Tina, stop! These aren't vampires, they're the Winchesters."

Tina stopped and gapped at Dean and Sam. Presumably Jenny peaked out from the car, to get a closer look at the Winchesters. Dean didn't know if he should find this fanfare funny or ridiculous.

"Look, this probably isn't the best place for this discussion. We should get out of the open," Sam suggested, the voice of reason.

Roger leaned against Sam, taking his arm and pulling him towards the bug. "We have a great house on the edge of town."

Dean stepped in, separating Sam from the kid and shoving Sam towards their car parked a few blocks back. Dean glanced at the three make shift hunters. He and Sam may have started younger, but it didn't feel like it when he looked at each of their youthful faces. Dean shook his head and started walking after Sam. "We'll follow you," he said. The girls still didn't say anything, but Roger blew him a kiss and waved goodbye.

  
The kids worked hard to make them feel welcome. They scrambled to clean, to cook dinner, to put together make shift beds on the couches. They asked too many questions, Dean let Sam deal with most of that. Dean felt a bit anxious in a full house with happy people. He had been ramped up for a fight, and his nerves were still on edge. Stealthily Dean peeked in the fridge, nabbed a beer, and stepped out to a modest porch in an overgrown yard. Dean swatted dead leaves off a lawn chair before taking a seat. He drank in silence.

He wasn't that surprised Roger found him a few minutes later. Roger stuck his head out the door, surveyed Dean, from the tips of his toes all the way up his body. Roger looked at him like he liked what he saw. Dean kicked the other lawn chair out from under a rusted garden table, offering Roger a seat.

"You gonna glom on to me like you did with Sammy, now?" Dean asked.

Roger chuckled and shook his head. His laughter was deeper than Dean expected. When he stepped outside, Dean saw he changed out of neon and booty shorts to a more respectable plaid button up and jeans. Dean was only a little disappointed.

"Nah, man. Sam is just one of those progressive guys who just don't know how to handle a gay guy at the risk of being rude. So fun to mess with," Roger admitted.

Dean grinned at him. He could get behind messing with Sam. "Then what can I do you for?" Dean asked.

Roger shrugged. For all his flirtatious glances earlier, now that he was close Roger was drumming his fingers on the arms of his chair and staring off in the distance, instead of at Dean. Dean took advantage of the lack of scrutiny to eye Roger up. He thought of his muscled legs, his ass barely hanging in his shorts earlier. Thought of how sweaty he'd been from dancing, just knew that Roger would bring the same energy to bed. Dean thought about all the guys who'd propositioned him tonight he had to pass up because he was on the job. He felt a heat growing inside of him. Roger was barely more than a kid, it wouldn't be right to take advantage of him. Dean knew that, but when Roger glanced back at him from beneath long eye lashes and licked his lips nervously, Dean almost went for it.

Roger broke through the tension by speaking. "So... can I bum a cigarette?"

Dean sighed. He pulled out what was left of the pack he picked up that morning and tossed it to Roger with a sharp flick of his wrist. "Cancer kills, kid," he said.

Roger caught the pack and rolled his eyes. He pulled out a cigarette with nimble hands and retrieved a pack of matches from his back pocket. "Oh, shut up. You were smoking like a chimney outside the club. That's right, I saw you when I went in, and you were still at it when I left."

Dean shrugged. "It's not weird to see a guy outside smoking. Was blending in to the scene."

"You gave fuck-me eyes to my friend Joey, he about fainted from your hotness. That's not blending in, Dean," Roger said, his voice too whiney for the words.

Dean grinned again. "You jealous I didn't give fuck-me eyes to you?"

Roger's eyes narrowed at Dean. He lit up his cigarette, and took a long, deep drag, lifting one eye brow quirked upwards at Dean while his lips formed a perfect O around the cig, sucking hard on it in a way that should have been ridiculous. It wasn't. Roger pulled back the cigarette but kept inhaling, breathing the smoke in deep. Then he tilted his head back, baring a pale throat. Roger breathed the smoke out slowly, moaning a little as if he enjoyed it. Dean knew without a doubt that there were a great many things Roger would enjoy doing with that mouth.

Dean wasn't given a chance to react before Sam found them outside. He brought his own beer, and an extra for Dean. The conversation changed seamlessly into planning their hunt tomorrow.

That night Dean struggled to sleep. He was aware, not for the first time, that it had been quite awhile since he hooked up with anyone. Normally he found a gal to shag at every city they stopped in. He just hadn't felt like it lately.

Except tonight, tonight he kept thinking about Roger's lips, puffed up from sucking that cigarette, and how much better they'd look around his cock. Dean was too aware of Sam sleeping feet away from him, and couldn't pleasure himself while there was a chance Sam would wake up and catch him. Around three in the morning Dean got up to find a bathroom.

He tip toed down the hallway that led to the bathroom. Passing doors on either side that led to bedrooms. Dean tried not to guess which bedroom was Roger's. Tried not to wonder if anyone would notice if he peeked in doors until he found Roger, how Roger would react if he crawled into his bed. Roger probably kept lube under his pillow. The kid was young and spry and so freaking energetic. He'd been giving Dean eyes all night. Roger probably thought of Dean when he was in bed, unburdened by sharing a room with another person.

Dean bet that Roger hadn't hesitated to touch himself. His imagine wandered to what that may have looked like. Roger coating his fingers in lube, then reaching down and stretching himself open. Roger would bend back until he could reach his prostate, then rub it slowly until he couldn't take it anymore. Then Roger would start pounding, imagining it was Dean's cock thrusting him open instead of just fingers.

Dean found the bathroom. He forced out deliberate movements, nearly silent as he shut and locked the door behind him. He kept the lights off as he unbuttoned his pants and pushed them down to his knees. His cock popped out, already at full mast. Dean put one hand on the sink for support, the other wrapped around his dick and started pumping.

Roger wouldn't have held off from touching himself. He probably wouldn't have started with the same rushed desperation Dean was exhibiting. He would have been slower, deliberate. Dean imagined Roger's hand cupping his own balls, rolling the sensitive skin in his hand. He'd move on from there to the shaft, his soft hands gripping it firmly as he stroked it, occasionally flickering over the head or rubbing down his slit. Roger wouldn't have been able to keep things slow for long, maybe just long enough to prep himself. Once he really got going, thinking about Dean inside him, he wouldn't have been able to resist slamming hard and fast, first forward into his grasp, then back onto the finger he skewered himself with.

Roger didn't even know. He'd read the books, that described in detail so many of Dean's sexual encounters and the awe-inspiring pleasure he gave to his partners. It's one thing to read about an experienced sex fiend with a huge cock, and quite another to feel it splitting you open, pounding into your tight hole that never had anything so huge making you feel fuller than anything you could have imagined.

Dean bit into his lower lip. He had missed this, letting himself go. Maybe his fantasy was all wrong and Roger had gone straight to sleep that night, not thinking twice about what Dean's body could do to him, but the fact was that didn't matter. It had been clear from the start that Roger was interested. Dean quirked his lips, remembering Roger getting shy when he finally got alone with Dean. Then he moaned when he remembered how Roger had got up the guts to come on to him.

Dean imagined Roger down on his knees, his lips stretched around Dean's dick, his mouth straining to take all of him in. It would be hard, but Roger would want to prove to Dean he could do it. It had been so clear how much Roger had wanted Dean. Dean needed that, needed to be wanted.

Dean's fist sped up. He could feel a growing tightness. He was so close.

Unbidden, Dean's thoughts jumped to his last orgasm, when Cas had held him and filled Dean with his power. Dean tried to push away from that thought, back to Roger going down on him with all the enthusiasm he could muster. It was too late, though. Instead of Roger, Dean imagined Cas. Cas, who didn't push him away, but rather clung to him as he stretched his mouth wide and relaxed his throat, swallowing Dean's long shaft inch by inch until he claimed him all.

Dean cried out when the orgasm hit.

He cringed after, afraid someone would hear. It took several long minutes to build the courage needed to turn on the bathroom lights so he could clean himself up and go back to bed.

Dean hardly talked to anyone the next morning. The next time Roger made advances, Dean shot him down. Roger had slunk away like a kicked puppy. The five of them took out the vampire nest at high noon, with the sun at their backs. Dean talked Sam into leaving town before the sun had time to set.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to the folk who commented on the last chapter - this is my first time writing a fan fic like this so I appreciate the encouragement! I probably won't be able to work on the next chapter until this upcoming weekend, but I'm hoping to semi-regularly update it until I figure out how everything ends ;)
> 
> Also, I apologize for any typos. I know there's at least one in chapter 1, and I'll go through and edit it again this weekend. I'm just impatient and don't want to give it a day to review things with a fresh eye. Ah well, there are worse habits to have.


	3. Henry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Much longer than the last ones. I got the idea in my head, and stayed up all night writing it (it is now almost 5am). I apologize for all typos, but don't know when I'll have time to proof read. Hopefully soon. Hopefully it's enjoyable despite glitches :)

Cas was the one to catch up with them. Dean had been tying his shoes, getting ready to head out and grab a cold one, when Sam's expletive drew his attention. Cas was standing right next to Sam, obviously just having appeared.

Dean didn't hear Cas's apology to Sam for startling him. Dean's blood was pounding too hard through his veins, all noise was drowned out. An iron grip had hold of his chest, and it was squeezing what was left of him into nothing. Dean wasn't aware enough to know if it hurt.

"Dean, are you alright?" Dean heard Cas say.

Dean blinked, and pulled himself upright. He tried to shrug it off, pretend it hadn't taken Cas several times asking the question for Dean to respond. "What're you doing here, Cas?" Dean was aware it came out low and gruff and unwelcoming. He wanted to play it cool, could see Sam's concern, didn't want to have to talk about what was happening. Nothing was happening. Nothing would ever be happening.

As always, Cas was oblivious. "The demons here are working on a project, we have to stop them." Dean didn't say anything. He stared at Cas, noting the way his eyes crinkled and his face was ridden with frown lines. Cas looked tired. He needed their help.

Dean dropped his eyes to the ground, noticed his shoe still wasn't tied. The grip on his chest squeezed tighter. Dean glanced at Cas and said, "yeah, right, whatever." He turned away to finish tying his shoe, hiding behind the necessity.

Clearly Sam had questions for Dean, but his questions for Cas were more pressing. The brothers were in town investigating a haunted train station, they hadn't seen one iota of demons. Sam's questions distracted Cas and Dean was able to dawdle. He took his time finding his phone, his wallet, keys to his car. He pocketed them all before grabbing his jacket, shrugging it on. He pulled his gun out from the table side drawer he'd stored it in, tucked it away. When Dean glanced back at Sam and Cas, they had a map pulled up on an internet browser and were strategizing over how to travel across the city.

Dean tried not to panic as he watched Cas. Cas who was perfectly fine existing in the same space as Dean without acknowledging anything had happened between them. Sure, Dean knew he'd been teeming with emotions for the last couple months. Knew that one day all his emotional repression would bubble up and kick him in the ass. But why fuck with a good thing? Ignoring everything, well, that let Dean feel okay. And if not okay, it let him function. Hell, Dean was a pro at devoting himself to the job and the job alone. Kill the bad guys, take care of Sammy, go back to whatever motel they were crashing at and find the nearest bar and hook up for the evening. He could drink and fuck himself into a stupor and forget that he ever cared about anything else. Forget that everything else in his life was a fucking tragedy.

Cas glanced over at Dean, saw that Dean was ready for action. Cas's smile was small, but warm. As with everything Cas did, it was entirely sincere. It made Dean remember he hadn't been doing any fucking lately, hadn't been able to get close to another person without thinking of the man in front of him and all the ways he wished life was different. Cas looked away before Dean's carefully sculpted calm could break down and betray him.

Dean had to leave before he had a sissy fit right here in front of people. He grabbed for his napsack, thinking up any excuse to get some air. "Looks like you guys are gonna be awhile with the research," he said as he ruffled through the pack. "I'm gonna go fill up the gas tank, make sure we got everything we need for the action."

Sam narrowed his eyes at Dean, but waved him off in the end. Dean escaped to the outdoors and breathed in fresh air and solitude. He looked around the grungy parking lot, made dark by burnt out lights the motel never bothered to replace. It didn't make Dean feel better, to be out in the darkness. He felt starkly alone. The idea of going back inside, well, that was worse. It had been ages since he felt as isolated as he just had in that room with Cas.

Nothing would ever happen. Not with Cas.

Dean walked to the impala, unlocked it and got inside. He'd filled up the gas tank right as they got to town, and maybe Sam would wise up and remember it, but not soon enough to prevent Dean from pulling out of the parking lot and at least giving escape a chance. Dean drove away from the motel, and wondered what would happen if he just kept going. How long before Sam and Cas came looking for him? Would he be leaving them in danger, with a demon plot on the ground? Nah, he couldn't skip town. Sammy would do something foolish and try to take out the monsters on his own, get himself beat up or worse. He had a little while, though, before they came looking. Sam would call, and Dean could buy time with vague texts, promising to get back soon. He could drive awhile.

Dean wasn't surprised where he ended up parking. It had been like this, every town since Roger. Sam and Dean would chase down the leads on their case, and while traveling the city, if it was big enough, Dean would find a bar or a night club that specialized in a specific clientele. Dean didn't go in, didn't linger, but in the back of his mind he knew that when he finally decided it was time to get back in the saddle, he wouldn't be picking up chicks. It's not that he didn't want women, just he couldn't get his mind off... no. Tonight he was going to get his mind off Cas. Fuck Cas. There would never be Cas and Dean had to man up and deal with that. He swung the car door open forcefully and bee lined for the bar.

The place was homey without being a dive, and there were enough men casually about that Dean knew he'd be able to find someone. Instead of going on the prowl, Dean went up to the bar and ordered whiskey straight. The bartender tried to flirt with him, but Dean wasn't ready. Despite his resolve to Get Over Cas, the grip on his chest hadn't let up much at all. Dean self diagnosed that he needed to get a little sloshed before he'd be fit for seduction. Maybe more than a little. The bartender caught on and kept the drinks coming.

Dean tried not to look too desperate, nursing each drink a little instead of taking them as shots. He wasn't as experienced picking up guys as he was ladies, but few woman liked a drunkard. Dean could navigate past that and charm his way into panties anyway, but he didn't know what guys were into. He had never sought one out, specifically. It made him nervous, but Dean relished the butterflies fluttering in his stomach. It was the first thing he felt in so long that had nothing to do with Cas.

When Dean felt warm from the booze, and his eye sight fuzzed just a bit around the edges, he sat up a bit straighter and half swiveled his bar stool to better see the room. Dean took a moment to school his face, knowing that he was more drunk than was wise and not wanting to come across dopey or as a creep. He glanced up at the room, taking in everything the way only a hunter could. Even when drinking, he'd been aware of every person in the bar, but now he matched faces and details to each person, carving out a place for each one in his mind.

The first man who caught his gaze was cute. He quirked his lips and tilted his head and cocked an eyebrow at Dean. Dean had wanted him right then, but in a way that pulled his chest tight in a too familiar way. The man was slim, tall, had a five o'clock shadow and scruffy hair Dean could cling to as they kissed. It was too much like Cas, and looking at the man made Dean ache. Dean tried to share a friendly, but not inviting smile as he moved on.

There were others in the bar, attractive and not avoiding Dean's attention. After the first man, though, Dean felt put off. He didn't want to be reminded of Cas. Didn't want it to be like he was finding a replacement or substitute.

A stranger solved Dean's problems. He had to be a construction worker, lumber jack, fire fighter or something. Muscles defined him, but not the well sculpted type developed in the gym. This guy worked for a living, like (or not quite like) Dean did. The man smiled at Dean, and while he wasn't movie star material the smile melted Dean's stiffness and Dean was able to return it. The man nodded at Dean's now empty glass. "Can I buy you a drink?" he asked.

Dean's stomach did a flip. This was nothing like Cas, nothing like going to a bar to find a woman to go home with for the night. This man had come to the bar to find Dean. "Yeah, I'd like that," Dean said.

His name was Henry. He made Dean laugh. He lived nearby. They stayed for one drink before Dean agreed to they should go somewhere more private. Henry walked Dean down the street, three blocks to his apartment. They walked close to each other, closer than Dean and Sam walked, but not touching.

Henry had to punch a key number into the apartment complex to get inside, then led the way up a flight of stairs. He paused outside his door to smile at Dean. The smile reached his eyes, and they sparkled. Dean felt entranced. Henry raised a hand to cup Dean's cheek, his thumb running over Dean's lower lip. Henry chuckled softly to himself. "God, you're so fucking gorgeous, I didn't think you'd actually come home with me," he said.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Shut up," he said.

Henry lifted his other hand to cup the rest of Dean's face, forcing Dean's attention back on him. "I mean it," Henry said, "You're so fucking beautiful."

Dean stared at Henry, his stomach dropping not unpleasantly. He felt warm, beyond the alcohol, and he leaned into Henry's touch. Henry welcomed him, and before Dean knew it their lips had found each other. Henry moaned into Dean's mouth, his hands clutching Dean, needing it as much as Dean did. Dean's fingers clung to Henry's shirt, working to pull himself closer and be cocooned inside Henry's kiss and arms.

Like a couple dweebs, they stood there making out in the hallway for several minutes before Henry remembered he had keys and he should let them in. Dean stayed close to Henry as he worked the lock. Dean's hands explored everywhere and his mouth nipped at Henry's neck. Henry was breathing heavy when the door opened. He then turned around and grabbed Dean to pull him into a fierce kiss before walking backwards, dragging Dean with him into the apartment. Dean kicked the door closed behind him and then began to pull at Henry's clothes. They both had enough experience not to make total fools of themselves as they rushed through shedding clothes. Dean didn't want to wait for anything. He wanted to be touching Henry everywhere, skin to skin, and had no patience for buttons or buckles. Henry didn't quite let Dean finish undressing before he pulled him towards a hallway. Dean followed, and they found themselves in Henry's bedroom, then on Henry's bed.

Dean found himself lying on his back, Henry above him. Henry kissed him deeply, his tongue mapping every part of Dean. Dean grabbed at him, finding leverage to pull Henry closer, and rub there bodies together. Both men still wore pants, and Dean worked his hips against Henry to encourage him to remove them.

Henry pulled form Dean's lips with a chuckle. "So eager," he said. Dean groaned and rubbed up against Henry again. Dean could feel Henry's length, just as eager. Henry didn't continue stripping, though. Instead he grazed his mouth along Dean's neck, suckling and nipping as his hands explored Dean's chest. Dean arched into every touch. When Henry found a sensitive spot he would lavish it with his tongue, and Dean would claw at him, moaning and begging for more. Dean was wrecked before Henry started kissing his chest, working his was downwards. Henry's mouth found the top of Dean's jeans, already unbuttoned and half unzipped. Henry brushed his face against the jeans, poking his nose inside, flickering his tongue against Dean's skin. It was so close, but not nearly close enough.

"Pleeeease," Dean moaned. "Please, please, please." He couldn't stop begging.

"God yes," Henry said, breathless. He finally grabbed Dean's pants and tugged them down. Dean lifted his hips to make it easier, relishing the moment his cock came free for just a moment before Henry engulfed it in his mouth.

The noises Dean made were obscene. His hands clawed at Henry's head, unable to grip tight enough as Henry bobbed his head up and down, taking almost all of Dean in each time. Dean couldn't remember many people who had been capable of taking him so deep and fast and fully. He felt his balls tightening, was so close to losing it, when with a loud pop Henry pulled off of him, leaving his dick untouched before release. Dean whimpered, not caring if he sounded needy and pathetic. "Please," he said again.

"Dean," Henry's voice was raw, ragged form using his throat so expertly, but also deep and commanding. Dean stopped pleading and looked at him. Henry's eyes were dark and intense, absolutely certain in their conviction. "I want you," Henry said.

Dean was nodding before he'd finished. "Yes," he said without hesitation. Henry's eyes darkened even further, blown out with lust. It made Dean's stomach do another one of those flips he was starting to love.

Henry crawled back up the bed, too careful not to touch Dean's dick for Dean's liking. Then Henry leaned in to kiss Dean again. Dean could taste his own bitterness in Henry's mouth, and it made everything more real. He thrust his tongue further into Henry, wanting to taste the proof that Henry wanted him. Taste Henry's desire for Dean and cling to it.

Dean didn't know where Henry had found the lube, but while they were kissing Henry had coated his fingers, and so very carefully he had reached one hand down to pull Dean's legs wider and give access to his hole. Dean wanted it, but when Henry's fingers brushed against him he froze. Henry felt it right away, and stopped, too. Henry pulled back half an inch, breaking the kiss. Dean felt a moment of panic. He was worried that he'd ruined it, but Henry didn't seem upset, just concerned.

Henry leaned into Dean, not to kiss but to rest his cheek against Dean's. "Is this okay?" Henry whispered in Dean's ear.

Dean resented how shaky his breath was. His body was on fire with desire, and while it would be uncomfortable at first, he actually longed to feel some part of Henry inside him. It was just... Dean straight up blushed a little to think about it. He was so experienced in sex, the fact that he had never had a man fuck him before seemed crazy. There wasn't a particular reason, other than he hadn't actually been with that many men. And those he had slept with, well, they didn't always have full on sex. When he'd gone all the way, Dean had always topped. At life, Dean pretty much always felt he had to top. Giving up that control in bed was something he figured he'd only ever do with someone he was close to. But Dean wasn't close to anyone. No one but Sammy and Cas.

In the last few years, whenever he'd imagined what it would feel like to be thoroughly fucked by a man, he had always dreamed it was Cas. He had wanted it to be Cas, so badly.

Here he was though, with another man who was tremendous and giving and hot as fuck, ready to give him sex the likes of which he'd never known. Dean wanted it, but he was also afraid. Doing this now, it really meant it. It really meant he believed Cas would never, ever want him. Which was the truth. Dean could never have Cas, all he could have was this.

Dean let out a shaky breath. He didn't want to scare Henry off by unleashing too much emotional baggage for a hook up, and he didn't want to kill the mood. Dean needed Henry, so badly.

"Condom?" Dean asked, finding a reason for hesitation that wouldn't be out of place.

Henry kissed Dean's neck once more before pulling back enough to look at him. The hand already lubbed up reached out on the bed until it found the small square, and held it up for Dean to see. "Got you covered," Henry said, smiling. Dean let out a large breath, trying to let the last of his stress go with it. Henry could sense some of the unease lingering. "Is this okay?" he asked.

Dean knew, with absolute certainty, that if he said no Henry would stop and let him leave. Knowing that was enough. Dean smiled at Henry and nodded. "Yes," he said.

Henry smiled back. Then he leaned forward and began kissing Dean again. Dean let himself get lost in it as Henry positioned him to allow access once more to his entrance. Henry brushed it with his fingers, and Dean didn't tense this time. Instead he lifted his hips against the fingers, encouraging them.

Just one breached Dean, and he gasped at the feel of it. It had been awhile since he stretched himself out, and he was not used to the sting. Henry was careful, though. He took it slowly, putting just enough of his fingers inside of Dean to stretch a little further, prepare him a little more, until Dean was ready for Henry to begin thrusting. Henry's fingers felt amazing, and Dean quickly began thrusting up to meet them.

"More," Dean said. "Please, more."

Henry groaned. "God, Dean," he said, unable to find other words. In response Dean spread his legs wider, tried to give Henry better access for when he was ready. Henry groaned again in response, and pulled his fingers out of Dean. He took a moment to compose himself so he could open the condom wrapper, and get it onto his full dick without struggling. Dean propped himself up on his elbows to watch, keeping his legs spread wide and inviting. Henry glanced up at him after the condom was on, and gulped. Dean looked sinful, and open just for him. Henry couldn't wait any more. He crawled between Dean's knees, spreading his legs, and lining himself up. Henry's first thrust drove in hard, pushing a generous cock beyond what Dean had been stretched out to take. Henry heard Dean's gasp of pain and tried to slow down, but Dean clawed up at him, grabbing for his shoulders to bring him closer, then his hip to arch into the thrusts and take them deeper. Dean's words were a garbled mess of pleas. "Don't stop, need you, fuck, oh god, need you so bad, harder, please, more." Henry gave into it, lifting one of Dean's legs up and onto his shoulder so he could thrust harder and bend down to Dean, taking capturing his mouth and swallowing the words so that they'd be a part of him.

The sex was amazing. Dean was pliant and eager, and bent however Henry wanted him to as long as it meant harder thrusts and his back or chest to cling to. Once Henry found the right angle, every thrust grazed Dean's prostate, most hitting it dead on to send jolts of pleasure through Dean's entire body. It felt like too much, like Dean was going to explode. Dean wanted to explode. He reached for his cock to make it happen and Henry swatted his hand aside.

"No, you're going to let me fuck you till you cum from me inside you," Henry growled. Dean lost it, losing himself in Henry's body and what gibberish and moans he could still articulate as Henry road him. Each of Henry's thrusts built on the last, shooting straight to Dean's cock, pushing him closer and closer towards orgasm until he shouted Henry's name loud enough all the neighbors must have heard, and let lose a stream of cum between them.

Dean felt weightless as Henry continued to thrust into him, using Dean's body to find his release hardly a minute later. Dean watched Henry tense up, saw him throw his head back and groan through his orgasm. Once it hit, Henry seemed to turn to jelly. He barely managed to hold off collapsing on top of Dean, his body on top of Dean's, with the weight partially supported by Henry propping himself up on his elbows. Henry was breathing ragged breaths, his body shaky. Dean basked in the knowledge that he did that to Henry, wrecked him, pleasured him. They had done that together. It had been so long since Dean felt there was someone there with him, and while Henry was a stranger, Dean welcomed the weight of his body and the shakiness of his breath and the complete knowledge that at that moment he wasn't alone. After a moment of rest, Henry pushed himself up so he could pull out of Dean. He rolled over and removed the condom, tying it off and throwing it in a trash can next to the bed. Then he rolled back to Dean and wrapped an arm around him. Dean felt tremendously content to let him.

They lay like that for a few minutes, neither man speaking. Finally, Henry said, "I should probably go clean up." Dean moaned a grumble and waved the idea away. Henry chuckled his deep chuckle and kissed the back of Dean's head. "Gotta."

"Fine," Dean groaned. Henry kissed him again before stepping out of the bed and presumably towards the bathroom.

Dean didn't cuddle, he didn't do cutesey talk, and he didn't take time after sex to bask in how incredibly well fucked he was. Dean knew that wasn't who he was as a person. But he decided to give himself a pass today, in honor of getting back into the swing of having sex and the major break down he managed to avert by stepping up and getting laid. Cuddling with the guy who had just ravished him seemed like a good trade off to breaking down over a freaking angel breaking his heart.

Dean didn't want to ruin the moment by thinking of Cas, but he couldn't help it. He realized now that deep down he had always thought Cas would be the one here with him at this moment. That it wouldn't be a stranger - even one with as much kindness and sexual prowess as Henry - but rather a friend who he would... what, make love to? This hadn't been fucking love making. This had been sex. Mind blowing sex.

Something shifted inside Dean, though. The vice grip on his chest that had been there since he'd seen Cas, he knew what it was now, and couldn't pretend otherwise.

If this had been with Cas, it wouldn't have been just mind blowing sex. That mind blowing sex would have been making love. For the first time in Dean's god damn life he would have really made love to a person, wanting to be with that person forever. And while Dean was basking in the afterglow of something so amazing he wasn't sure he had the words yet to describe it - even sex with an inexperienced, unskilled angel like Cas, who he loved, would have been better in every way.

Dean felt his heart break all over again. He had ran away to try to hide from the truth, but instead he lowered his guard and let the emotions come roaring in to reveal everything.

He was utterly, hopelessly, tragically in love with Cas. Dean could picture every aspect of Cas in his mind, every reason he loved him, could imagine what a life with him would look like. Dean took a moment in his mind, knowing that he could never do it again, that it was too much and too hard and too painful, but for that one moment he imagined what it would be like if he could have all of his angel. All of Castiel.

The moment he thought it, he heard that deep, gruff voice. "Dean."

Dean jumped, almost enough to tumble out of the bed. He had to catch himself to keep from falling off the side, at the same time staring wide eyed and panicked at the man who absolutely, certainly shouldn't have been there.

Before Dean could address this giant problem, Henry walked back into the room, still naked. Dean watched Cas's attention swivel to him. Cas's eyes narrowed in suspicion, and almost unnoticeably Cas lowered his angel blade from his sleeve. At that moment Henry noticed him, and his well-satisfied smile vanished and was replaced with alarm.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Henry demanded, reaching for the nearest thing he could grab to use as a weapon. Cas saw Henry reaching, and charged forward.

"Cas, no!" Dean shouted, as panicked as he'd ever been when reacting to a threat against Sam.

Dean's call was enough. Cas stopped right between slamming Henry against a wall and shoving the angel blade into him. Cas froze there, but when he looked at Dean he was anything but calm. "This man threatens you," Cas growled to Dean.

Dean was shaking his head, trying to decide what he should do to alleviate the situation, not thinking fast enough to handle everything.

Henry was thinking plenty fast, though. "What the fuck, Dean! What are you, some crazy with an equally crazy boyfriend? You fuck them then attack them? Is this a god damn robbery?"

Dean looked at Henry, and all the warmth and caring that had been there not five minutes ago was gone and replaced with rage. Dean remembered how warm he had felt, how Henry's advances made his stomach flip. Dean tried to remember what that felt like while the ice grip on his heart returned, and he was once again overcome with panic. Dean couldn't breath, couldn't think. He was about to start hyperventilating like a fucking 13 year old girl, this could not be happening. Dean didn't do emotional break downs. He held it together and finished the job and moved on.

Except while Dean was collapsing in a sea of emotional turmoil Cas was being Cas. "Who is this man, what is he shouting about?" Cas demanded.

Dean looked up at Cas, hopeless. "He's no one, Cas, let him go."

Cas looked between Dean and Henry, seeing the anger from the latter and not feeling it was wise to release him. "You were gone for hours," Cas said. "You said you were going to the gas station, and you never came back. Sam said, Sam said not to worry about it, but this city is not safe right now and you were missing." Dean honestly hadn't thought Cas would worry, it seemed like a Sam thing to do. Now he knew his angel, though. He just had to calm Cas down and let him know he was safe.

"I wasn't missing, Cas. I was," Dean paused. His eyes flickered to Henry, who was now looking confused and hurt, as well as angry. Dean had a sudden urge to be honest, because anything less would hurt Henry more. "I went out to have sex, Cas."

Cas just stared at Dean, uncomprehending. "You were unsuccessful?" He asked.

Dean blinked. He looked at Henry, and then himself. Two naked men in a room with a bed. "I really wasn't," Dean said.

Cas's eyes widened. He looked again at Henry, who was now utterly confused and not a little down trodden. Cas seemed to just then notice the nudity, and released Henry immediately. Henry scrambled away, back towards the doorway where he'd returned from. He didn't quite leave, not trusting Cas and Dean alone in his house.

"I don't understand," Cas said, still staring at Henry. "You have sex with women."

Dean took a deep breath, knowing that this would be one of the most awkward moments of his life, and then he would survive it. Even if the pain of it would emotionally scar him, probably forever. It would be another thing to push down so far he only thought of it in his nightmares, and then he'd just drink himself back to sleep until he couldn't dream anymore.

"Cas, I'm bisexual. I sleep with whoever I want."

Cas finally turned away from Henry, now more interested in what Dean had just said than the strange man he had slept with. Cas looked so puzzled, Dean wanted to reach out and reassure him. Dean was so embarrassed from this whole thing, but he thought that if he could comfort Cas, maybe Cas would comfort him, maybe everything would be better.

Instead, Cas stared straight at Dean and said in his most impassive voice. "Same-gendered sex is unnatural, Dean."

It was like Dean had just been hit with a fucking truck. He physically swayed, and the heart pounding noise was back in his head, blocking out everything else.

Unnatural. Shameful. This is what Cas thought of him. Cas was an angel, holy, the ultimate fucking Christian. So what if he could murder fellow angels and rain down heaven on Earth if he wished it, some things were still wrong. Cas thought Dean was wrong.

Dean couldn't breathe, but he needed to be away. He grabbed for something, anything, realizing what it meant to be naked here, vulnerable in front of this angel. He grabbed at the bedding, sheets and blankets that had been pushed aside earlier when Dean and Henry.. when Dean... Dean found himself sobbing as he pulled a sheet out and covered himself with it, using it as a shield as he stumbled off the bed, grabbing for whatever clothing he could find to get dressed in.

"Dean," Cas said, unsettled by Dean's reaction. "It's alright, Dean. I did not mean to upset you. Please, let me take you back to the motel and everything will be alright."

Dean had found his pants and was pulling them back on when Henry stepped in. He'd found a large piece of wood, probably from a shelf or piece of furniture, and was wielding it like he planned on clubbing Cas. "Look, fella, I have no fucking clue who you are or how you got into my god damn apartment, but I think it's clear to see neither of us want you here. You better get your ass out before I beat you. No cop in the world is gonna charge me for it when you're breaking and entering and practically fucking assaulted me!"

Cas sighed and turned back to Henry. "I'm sorry for this," he said. Then he reached out and touched Henry's forehead before Henry could move. Bright light flashed, and Dean cried out as he ducked out of the blast. Then there was a loud thud. Dean hurried to his feet to see what had happened, and found Henry collapsed on the floor.

It was too much. Everything was too much. Dean lost himself staring at Henry and sobbing, trying to muffle his noise with a fist in his mouth. He bit down on his fingers, trying to use the pain to numb everything else. All he could do was stare, more panicked than ever, at the limp body on the floor. This was supposed to be an escape, and instead everything was worse off than it was before.

Cas saw Dean's devastation and began shaking his head. "No, Dean, no. I didn't hurt him. Don't worry, I didn't hurt him, he'll be fine." Dean couldn't form words anymore, he just gaped at Cas and continued crying. "I didn't want to hurt him, Dean. So I just removed his memories of tonight and put him to sleep. He will be fine. Not even a headache in the morning."

Dean thought he couldn't get worse, but as always, he was wrong. The thought of Henry not remembering Dean, not remembering what they'd shared before everything went to hell, well, it was horrible. Dean had felt something, experienced something, and he thought it had mattered. Now it was if it might as well never have existed. He understood Cas's reasoning, understood why it seemed like a good choice. It also felt like a violation. Dean had tried to carve out a piece of himself beyond Cas, and Cas had destroyed it.

Dean cleared his throat of tears, and rasped out, "I need to go now."

Dean watched Cas's face fall, the confusion replaced with sorrow. "I hurt you," Cas said. It was the best he could do at insightful.

"I'll be fine, I just need to go," Dean answered.

Cas nodded. "Let me just clean up in here, and I will walk you to your car."

Dean shook his head. "No, I'm leaving, I don't want you near me."

Cas actually flinched. "Dean, I am not exaggerating when I say it is unsafe here. The demons may have already learned you and Sam are here, and then they will be targeting you. I cannot let you put yourself at risk."

"You don't get to let me anything, Cas, I get to do what I want. I don't care if you don't like it, or think it's unnatural, or find it shameful, I don't care!" Dean didn't wait for a response. He rushed out of the bed room, finding his way to his shirt and his coat. The car was three blocks away, he could deal with the cold and go barefoot rather than listen to Cas during the time it took to put on shoes.

Dean had shrugged into his shirt and jacket by the time he'd made it out of the building. Cas was there waiting for him, with Dean's shoes and socks and the wallet that must have fallen out of one of Dean's pockets.

"Go away, Cas, just go away," Dean said. He shoved past him, storming off towards his car.

He heard Cas growl out his frustration behind him. "Dean!" Cas shouted. Cas began chasing after Dean, and it was hard for Dean to move quickly on cold, irregular sidewalks when he wasn't wearing shoes. He didn't regret his decision, he just wished Cas would listen and let him be. Instead Cas kept talking. "Dean, you keep telling me to leave, but you were the one who called me here. You called me and asked for my help."

That was so odd Dean froze and turned to face Cas. "Help?" Dean snapped. "You call what you did in there help?"

Cas shook his head. "No Dean, but you called out to me and I was worried. I thought you must have been attacked. And then I arrived and you were compromised by a strange man. What was I supposed to think?"

Dean just gaped at him. "I never called you for help, I never called you for anything. I didn't want you there!"

"Yes you did," Cas insisted. He stepped closer to Dean, still holding the shoes, socks and cell phone awkwardly, but unwilling to give them up. "I heard you Dean. I heard you pray to me, wanting me there with you. I felt it, stronger than ever before. I felt you, Dean."

The only thing worse than heartbreak was having the angel Dean loved realize what a fool Dean was. Dean could only stare at Cas, his cheeks flaming red and his heart erratic. Cas had angel radio, and Dean had tuned in to a very specific channel, unwittingly summoning an angel to his side. Cas could have ignored it, but he would never ignore Dean. Dean hung his head, unspeaking, shaking from anxiety and emotional turmoil. Cas waited patiently for an explanation, but Dean couldn't say anything. The only thing worse than feeling everything he felt would be for Cas to know, to have to live with the shame of it.

Cas realized Dean wouldn't be speaking. He inched forward towards him. "It's okay that you pray, Dean," Cas said, his words making Dean shake harder. "Shh, shh, it's okay," Cas said when Dean started to make noises again from crying. Cas shuffled Dean's belongings into one arm, so he could raise a hand and brush away Dean's tears. After he had done so, he cupped Dean's cheek with so much more tenderness than Henry had used earlier that evening. "I am sorry that I misunderstood your prayer." Dean tried to turn away from Cas's touch, but Cas's hand followed him. When Dean took a step back so Cas couldn't reach, Cas took a step closer and settled his hand on Dean's shoulder. "I heard you pray and I came. I did not listen to what you were telling me. I was rash and impulsive, and it hurt you. Believe me when I say that is the last thing I would want to do. It pains me that I hurt you."

The words soothed Dean. Even if they didn't address the root of the problem, Cas's calm tone and affection was easing him. Cas stood there with Dean until he stopped shaking, then until he was able to collect himself and the tears stopped falling. When Dean's breathing had evened out, Cas urged Dean to put his shoes on, and Dean listened. He didn't realize how cold his feet had become, and when he put the shoes on they tingled painfully. Cas offered to drive Dean back to the motel, but Dean was having none of that. He let Cas walk him to his car, aware that they walked much further apart than he had with Henry earlier. Dean didn't talk to Cas as he drove back to the hotel.

Cas followed Dean when Dean unlocked the door and went in. Sam was already asleep, clonked out on his bed snoring softly. A mild stream of light peaked out of the bathroom. Dean and Cas both kept their noise to a minimum as they walked around the room. Dean sat on the other bed, Cas pulled out a make shift desk chair to put next to the bed and sat in it.

"I will let you go to sleep soon, and leave you be, but I had a thought tonight and I need to ask you one question before I go."

Dean was wary, but tired. He could handle this and watch the angel leave of his own accord so that Dean could go to sleep peacefully. Dean nodded his consent.

"I have not been listening well, these last few months, but it strikes me now that there is a pattern. I will always come, when you ask for me. I thought, the last time, you asked for me to heal the curse from the succubus," Dean cringed from its mention. "Then this time, you called to me immediately after having sex with a human male, no magic involved. I look back on before, and I wonder," Cas paused to try to catch Dean's gaze, to look him in the eye while he asked this. Dean stared stubbornly at his shoes, his heart beating fast again with fear that he never should have let Cas stay and ask this. Cas was dissatisfied by Dean's distance. He sighed and rubbed exhaustion from his face. When he was done he leaned forward towards Dean, and rested a hand on Dean's knee. Dean's gaze moved from his shoe to his knee, such an intimate touch. Cas wouldn't know how intimate it was.

Still, Cas asked. "Dean, I would like to know, have you been calling for me because you would like to have sex with me?"


End file.
